


No-one Can Remember Someone They've Never Met

by Starshaker (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bullying, Death from first chapter, F/M, Gen, Hogwarts, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Magic, Magic-Users, Memory Loss, Mind Control, POV Hermione Granger, POV Tom Riddle, Power Dynamics, Riddle at Hogwarts Era, Teenage Tom Riddle, Time Travel, Torture, Triggers, Young Tom Riddle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-08 17:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7766431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Starshaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione is thrown back through time from the middle of the Battle of Hogwarts after being in the collision course of two powerful spells. She loses her memory bu not her sense of self, nor her determination to find what she's lost. Hogwarts feels familiar and for better or worse so do other things. </p><p>Star student Tom Riddle can't help but take a reluctant but particular interest in her and her missing past. He's convinced her can unravel her and her animosity towards him that he considers entirely unfounded. She knows things she shouldn't know and is powerful without realising her power. She would be a valuable asset in his pursuit of power if only he could persuade her to trust him, yet in the meantime a pseudo friendship with her is an interesting distraction if nothing else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Accio diadem," Hermione cried out in desperation. But the Room of Requirement would not surrender its hidden objects that easily. Ron and Harry looked at her with worry written on their faces.

"We should split up. Look for a stone bust of an old man wearing a wig and a tiara,'' Harry explained to the other two, ''It's standing on a cupboard and it's definitely somewhere near here…"

Ron and Hermione gave each other a quick nod and took off to adjacent aisles, leaving Harry behind them. Hermione's eyes scanned the piles of junk as she ran forward, her heart rapidly beating in her chest. Reaching a dead end, she sped back to reunite with Ron, hoping he had better luck with their search for the horcrux. 

Hermione finally spotted him up ahead with his back turned to her. As she rushed towards him, the wall of objects to his left began to topple down and threaten to crush him. She screamed helplessly, coughing as the cloud of dust that was blocking her sight now invaded her lungs. 

But all of a sudden Ron came bursting through the chaos with a triumphant look and his wand in his right hand. She breathed a sigh of immense relief.

''Did you really think something like that could stop me?'' He gave her a small smile and hugged her. ''Let's go before something else comes falling down.'' With that, they went back to find Harry.

As they turned the final corner, they saw Harry being cornered by Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle. Hermione immediately fired a Stunner and Ron followed with a Body-Bind curse, but both spells missed their target by centimetres as Malfoy pulled his companions out of their path at the last minute.

"The mudblood! Kill her," Hermione heard Crabbe shout. She saw a green light approaching and quickly dove out of its flight. Ron fired back a yellow spell. Goyle was now viciously attacking Harry.

Malfoy was yelling, "Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" But Goyle wasn't listening to him. Without his wand, which he seemed to have lost, the situation was out of his control. He was desperately ducking away from spells.

Hermione ran past him to Harry, who had successfully stunned Goyle.

"The diadem fell so it has to be around here somewhere. I can sense it so I've got a better chance at finding it. You need to help R…" Harry stopped talking when he saw huge flames reaching up to the ceiling. 

"Oh no,'' Hermione said, her face turning pale. ''That's fiendfyre.'' She saw Ron and Crabbe running towards them. Dread spread over her. It is impossible to extinguish the flames with a simple Aguamenti and she doubted Crabbe had the power to control them, either.

"Like it hot, scum," roared Crabbe as he ran, unaware of his lack of control over the flames. 

Before Hermione could realise what was happening, Crabbe had tripped Ron and the flames were encircling him, eating him alive. Even as Harry pulled her away from the fire, she couldn't bring herself to look away. Ron's screams and Crabbe's laughter were echoing in her ears.

"Hermione, we have to run!" Harry's voice shook.

She gave in but she knew they weren't running as fast as they should have been. Just ahead of them, Malfoy was trying to pull an unconscious Goyle towards the door.  
She glanced back and when her eyes fell on Crabbe she breath caught; He had almost reached them. He had a deadly grip on his wand and a bloodthirsty look clouded his eyes. 

"Mudblood," he yelled. Crabbe cast the unforgivable Killing Curse and at the same moment Harry threw a curse over his shoulder.

The curses collided and the fiendfyre had them all trapped. An immense white light threw them all backwards: Crabbe into the flames, Harry towards one of the last spared patches from the fire, and Hermione vanished from sight.

Harry spotted two old brooms and quickly mounted one, throwing the second to Malfoy, who managed to drag Goyle with him. He gave Harry a thankful nod and flew with Goyle towards the door. Harry lingered and frantically tried to find Hermione. He’d lost one friend already and he couldn’t lose another. The thought looped in his head as scanned the room but no life was clawing it’s way out of the debris

Fiendfyre licked the ceiling above his head and threatened to trap him as well. With a last push of speed he steered through the door to safety. As the door to the Room of Requirement shut behind him, everything on the other side was destroyed.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hermione woke up, she could feel a dull ache and pain all over her body. The dust in the air made her eyes sting. She was lying on a cold stone-floor in the dark with no idea how she got there. With relief, she noticed that her wand was still in her pocket and cast a Lumos. She was surrounded by boxes and shelves. It looked like some kind of storage room. While she got up, she saw that the throbbing pain in her right leg was caused by a nasty gash.

''Bugger, how did that happen?'' She muttered. Hermione's legs where still wobbly, she tried to hold on to some boxes but they could not hold her weight so she ended up on the floor again.  
At the end of the aisle, she saw a heavy wrought iron door. She mustered up all the strength she had left, got up and staggered towards the door. 

''Not much further now, Hermione, keep going, and find help,'' She told herself, now leaning on the wall for support. After several minutes of slow progress, she finally made it to the door. Thankfully, it wasn't locked. It creaked on its hinges while opening it just a gap to peek through. She saw a group of hooded people filing into a room. Their black cloaks caused a familiar feeling of fright in her, though she couldn't exactly pinpoint the reason for that. She quickly cast a disillusionment charm on herself and entered the room as quietly as she could to avoid being noticed. 

She watched as they circled around one cloaked figure in the middle. After each of them bowed to that person, they removed their hoods and Hermione could see that they were a group of boys. What appeared to be their leader remained hooded, but when he spoke to the other boys, she knew that he was male, too.

''My loyal knights,” Their leader started, his voice cut through the air and Hermione felt a chill rise in her bones as he spoke, “Another year is ahead of us and I hope your summer was as productive as mine was. This year, I wish to progress even further than last.'' Murmurs followed this announcement. The leader broke from the group and his followers turned to face him in two semi-circular lines. 

To Hermione, they looked like ranks; the older, probably more accomplished ones, to the front, while the younger ones stood to the rear. Hermione was confident in her magical abilities, but she wouldn't risk fighting every one of them at once, especially not in her current state. The leader's pause ended and he continued, in a voice that demanded absolute authority.

''It has come to my attention that last term, Professor Dumbledore began to take notice of us. Now, if we are to continue to increase our power, and fight against those who do not belong in our world, this is more than a little detrimental, isn't it?'' The leader

''Yes, master,'' Came the reply from the group.

''That means that you will travel in no more than threes, including free periods and our meetings. No more than one of you shall approach me in public at a time, and you must not be caught practicing any dark spells or breaking the rules lest it be traced back to us. If you do not obey these orders, you will suffer the consequences. Do I make myself clear?'' The lights flickered and dimmed as the leader growled out his question.

''Yes, master,'' The group chorused, their voices rang out into the darkness.

''I hope to have a fruitful year, gentlemen. We shall meet again in two weeks. You are dismissed.''

With a deep bow, the group dispersed, leaving the room in twos until only the leader was left. When his footsteps died away and he disappeared behind the door, she darted for the exit, ignoring the pain in her leg. She wanted to get to a place far away of the group of dark robed wizards that brought a chill to her body and mind. There was light outside; She could get help.

 

The door opened a crack, just enough for her to make her escape. Hermione found herself in a long corridor with ceilings as high as the room she had just left. Paintings hung on the walls and knight's armour placed on pedestals stood beside statues. The moon shone in from massive windows. A name came to the forefront of her mind, Hogwarts. She played the name over in her head several times, tried it out loud, but she couldn't figure out where she heard it. Now that she thought about it, she couldn't even remember how she ended up in that room, everything felt like a blur. Something must have knocked her out; her head still hurt terribly.

She turned right and stumbled further down the corridor. She hid behind a statue of a burly man when she heard footsteps approaching. Her wand was poised, ready.

''I may be old, but I'm certainly not stupid.'' A soft voice came echoing down the corridor. ''Students out of bed at curfew are not often very inventive, do let me hear your excuse.''

Hermione felt a faint recognition of the voice, something told her that she could even trust it, but she could not work out why she felt so sad at the same time. She stepped out to face the man. He wore long, purple robes and half-moon spectacles. On top of that, the long, grey beard made him look quite peculiar. With a flick of his wand, he lifted her disillusionment charm.

''I am no student. My name is Hermione Granger,'' She said, slowly walking towards him out of the shadows. She couldn't hide the limp as she put weight on her right leg.

His eyes fell on the wound and then slowly returned to meet her gaze.

''Well then, Miss Granger, I would indeed like to know more about you, and how you ended up in that shape, but you seem like you need visit the hospital wing first. You look rather like you have come from a war zone. Perhaps get some rest before you tell me your tale,'' He said with a chuckle and Hermione was glad of his kindness. He offered her his hand. ''This way, please.''

Hermione went to follow him but when she put a foot forward, she began to feel faint and within another couple of steps, she collapsed and everything went black. Vaguely, she heard the old man speak but couldn't make anything out as it all soon faded away.


	3. Chapter 3

''Ah, Mr Riddle, just the person I could use.'' Tom froze mid-step when he had heard Dumbledore call out his name. He wondered how the old man went undetected after he cast a proximity spell earlier. As usual, he hid his annoyance behind a mask of polite indifference.

''How may I help you, Professor Dumbledore?'' Tom asked, approaching him cautiously. A girl was levitated on a stretcher beside him.

''I have just happened to come across this young woman who appears to be in bad shape. Would you be so kind as to assist her to the Hospital Wing while I inform the Headmaster of her arrival?''

''Of course, Professor,'' Tom said, pulling out his wand to continue the levitation spell.

He waited until he heard Dumbledore's footsteps fade away before taking a good look at her. The girl appeared to be around his age, but she wasn't wearing school robes and he didn't recognize her either so he ruled out that she was attending Hogwarts. She was filthy, and a mixture of dirt and blood stained her ripped clothes that looked like they had never seen a wash. She wore something like man's clothing; heavy and coarse trousers, and a large hooded jacket. Casual, and not very fashionable. But considering the state she was in, not surprising. He could see wounds where her skin was exposed. 

''Who are you?'' He wondered out loud while levitating her up the staircases. Her large, bushy hair was barely above the ground.

When he finally reached the Hospital Wing, Madam Durrey was standing in front a cabinet with medicine. Tom cleared his throat to make his presence known. She startled and promptly dropped the bottles she was holding. His quick wandwork caught the bottles inches from the floor before levitating them back to Madam Durrey's hands. For a nurse, she was one of the clumsiest people Tom had ever met.

''Oh, Mr Riddle, you startled me. What can I do for-'' She stopped when she turned and saw the tattered girl he was levitating. As per usual her actions started working in overdrive; collecting potions, her wand, and other equipment. Tom took it as his clue to put the girl down on one the beds.

''Who is the poor thing, what's happened to her?'' she asked Tom as she conducted an examination of the rag doll of a girl.

''I'm afraid I don't know, Dotty. Professor Dumbledore just asked if I could escort her here. She was already unconscious from what I can tell,'' He said innocently, sifting through letters on her desk while she was preoccupied, taking note of any from St. Mungo's on new discoveries.

''Mr Riddle! I have warned you countless times about using my first name. It's inappropriate for students to address staff that way and you know it,'' She scolded him, but Tom knew he would get away with it. ''Now, make yourself useful and help me.''

He sauntered over and waited for further instruction. He grimaced at the thought of having to touch the filthy thing. She was probably a muggleborn anyway, judging by the state of her. Purebloods always held too much pride in their appearance to get in such a mess. Madam Durrey saw his look and mistook it for sympathy.

''Yes dear, she is in a bad way,'' she sighed. ''Could you heal all those nasty cuts on her legs and arms while administer the draughts?'' 

Tom nodded and glanced up and down at her cuts. Silently, he prepared the cleaning and healing spell he invented himself. It would leave no scars behind and rarely needed dressing which kept him away from a sick bed most of the time.

He started on her hands and arms, cutting away the fabric of her jacket as he went. He knew Madam Durrey would change her clothes when she was done. Blood was caked on her hands and a deep cut on her palm made Tom wonder how she managed to hold a wand. There was something carved into her skin on her left arm which looked like a word, but it was hard to tell because of all the blood and dirt covering it. To not risk opening the wound again, instead of using separate spells, he evaporated the dirt and healed the cut in one action. Any scar would be lost beneath a cover up spell that would last indefinitely. 

Her legs were a more difficult endeavour. A long gash travelled indecently high on her thigh, which looked to be infected . He was reluctant to remove the fabric from such an area, torn between propriety and his objective. 

Initially, his spell refused to work. Tom frowned when he found traces of dark magic he didn't recognise. This girl's story would certainly be one to take note of when she recovered. He was eager to find out if she knew the spells she had been on the receiving end of. As he worked, he was intrigued to find that each spell he attempted on the deep cut failed.

''Are you having some trouble, Mr Riddle?'' Madam Durrey asked. This infuriated Tom and fuelled his ambition. He drew on more powerful magic stores to pour into the spell. The girl shifted and Tom almost did more damage by misdirecting his power. In the corner of his eye, he saw Madam Durrey wincing, prepared to jump in should anything go wrong. But Tom managed to bring his magic back into the right direction and after a minute or so the sheer volume of his powerful magic overwhelmed the curse and he was finally able to heal it. A smugness and reassurance filled Tom as he cleared the last few cuts and bruises along the girl's legs.

''She looks as good as new. Another fine job, Tom,'' Said a voice from the doorway. He stiffened at the use of his first name and turned to see Dumbledore standing in the middle of the doorway. The professor's face was as cold as it always was with him.

Tom adopted a look of cool indifference, glancing back to the girl on the bed. ''Thank you, Professor, but it was mostly Madam Durrey who dealt with the more serious injuries.''

''Perhaps you would sit and watch over our patient, while I have a short chat with Madam Durrey.'' The professor's manner was pleasant, yet it felt as though it were a direct order to stay put. Tom bristled at such a command of power over him. Despite this he remained polite, an outburst would be counter productive, and even damaging to his reputation in front of the nurse.

''Of course, Sir,'' he replied, standing straight as a soldier, locking gazes with Dumbledore until Madam Durrey ushered the professor into her office.

Tom could have listened in to what they were discussing, but he doubted it would be of any great importance. Taking out a small notepad from his pocket, he leaned his back against the bedpost and returned to his sketches.

 

 

 

Hermione woke with a dull throbbing in her head, and her limbs ached. Squinting at the light, she saw candles were floating just above her. She shifted to sit up and cried out when a sharp pain shot through her leg.

''Moving wouldn't be wise.'' A voice snapped her from her efforts which belonged to a boy standing at the end of her bed. She hadn't even noticed him; he was standing so still, only the scratch of his pencil on paper revealed any movement. She ignored his words and wanting to proof that she was able to stand up, she tried again. When the pain flared up again, she bit her lip so hard she drew blood.

Eventually, her determination paid off and she sat up, only to find the boy now looking at her instead of his notepad. His hands were where they were, ready so start sketching without looking at the outcome. His eyes held no concern, even though he had warned her about agitating her injuries earlier.

''Where are you from?'' He eventually asked. 

Hermione felt ill from the stare she was receiving, so she paused to think before trying to answer his question. Before she could, a violent choking had her doubled over. Suddenly, there was a cold hand on her shoulder and a glass of water had been thrust into her hand. She took several sips and the coughing stopped.

She reached her hand out to place the glass on the small table beside her bed, and saw that the boy must have dropped his notepad while getting her the water. She could see what he was sketching, it chilled her to the bone; a dangerous mark. Quickly, she scrambled backwards with a frightened look in her eyes. Almost falling off the other side of the bed, he grabbed both of her arms tightly. Like a trapped, wild animal she struggled, trying futilely to break free and kick him; nothing came anywhere close to contact. He just held her down and looked straight into her eyes. When all else failed, she screamed. It was an ear-piercing scream, but the only reaction it inflicted on her captor was a frown, his dark eyes still coldly locked on hers.

''What is happening here?'' She heard a voice shout from behind the boy. Hermione didn't stop struggling, she had to get away. That mark, that symbol was danger and she wasn't safe. Shortly, there was another hand over her, this time on her nose, forcing her to swallow a potion that was poured down her throat. It prickled her dry throat and when it hid her stomach, a warm feeling spread all over her body and she blacked out again.


	4. Chapter 4

The second time Hermione woke, it took her even longer to pull herself from the throbbing in her head to functioning conscious thoughts. She didn't move though, that would give her away and they might come back and drug her again. That mark: That terrifying dangerous mark. 

Opening her eyes slightly, she glanced around from where she was lying. The room was much brighter now and she assumed she had slept for a long time and it was now day time. The old man from the corridor sat next to her bed, reading. Hermione didn't think he'd seen her wake up so she quickly closed her eyes and hoped he would leave so she could get out of wherever she was. 

"If you're feeling up to it, perhaps you could enlighten me as to how you came to be within Hogwarts' walls, my dear," He said. She obviously wasn't going to get out of speaking to these people. She sighed and made to get up. 

Testing her leg before pressuring it to move, she found it no longer painful and therefore sitting up wasn't such a struggle anymore. Her throat was still sore from the potion they'd forced into her; she held it accountable rather than her screaming. She looked around and found the notebook gone but the glass was still there on the table. 

To calm her nerves she drank a little, then looked at the man questioning her. He was sitting casually, leaning back on his chair, arms across a book on his lap. 

"I believe I didn't get to introduce myself earlier when we met, Miss Granger. I am Professor Albus Dumbledore, teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It is a pleasure to meet you." 

"Thank you," She said before pausing. He had asked her how she had gotten here; meaning he didn't know. They hadn't kidnapped her. "I'm sorry," She added. 

"Whatever for?" 

"I can't remember." 

"I'm afraid I don't follow," He said, looking at her with a quizzical look. 

"I don't know where here is. Hogwarts I know you've said, but I don't know how I got here," Hermione admitted. 

"Ah, I see," He said, pondering. "What can you recall before arriving in that corridor where I discovered you?" he asked, now leaning forwards, obviously intrigued. 

She thought about it before saying, "I was in a huge, cluttered room, there were objects piled high to the ceiling. I found my way to the door that led to the corridor." 

"And before that?" He asked. Hermione struggled. She was unable to gather any memory of before that room, like all the time before that didn't exist. "I…I don't know," She said, starting to panic a little. 

"Can you tell me anything at all of your life before you were in that room?" He gave her a minute or so to think; her eyebrows knotted in frustration and she was frowning. "Who were your parents? Perhaps we could trace them?" 

"Monica and Wendell Wilkins," Hermione answered immediately. 

"And yet you are Granger, you said. Yes?" 

"Yes, Sir." 

"I must ask, Miss Granger," he said slowly, "Are they of magical descent?" 

Hermione looked down, fearing this information would condemn her, but feeling unable to lie to this man she said in a small voice.

"No." 

She heard him rise from his chair and felt a hand rest on her leg. 

"It is nothing to be ashamed of, I assure you." She looked up to see him smiling. "Now, I believe I was supposed to alert Madame Durrey should you awake and I have already put it off longer than she would have liked." 

Just as he reached the curtain separating her bed from the rest of the room he stopped and turned back to her. "Was it Mr Riddle who distressed you earlier my dear, or another cause?" He asked, his voice lower and softer. 

"No, Sir, I don't recognise that boy from earlier. It was the Morsmordre." She shivered at the thought. 

"I'm not familiar with that phrase." 

"It's the symbol of pure malicious evil, professor; the skull with a snake for a tongue." 

"I see," he said, masking his reaction with a gentle smile. "I'll be back momentarily, Miss Granger." 

Both he and the woman, who had forced the potion on her returned, and in her hand she held a clipboard and quill. This woman, Madam Durrey, the school's nurse as she was introduced, proceeded to ask her multiple questions: name, age, date of birth etc. "So that'll be 1926 you were born then," said Madam Durrey. Hermione objected, but for all her effort she couldn't recall her true year of birth. It brought her almost to tears of embarrassment that she couldn't remember who she was. After regaining her composure, her wand was handed back to her by Professor Dumbledore, and she was overjoyed to have her most prized possession returned to her. She could feel her magic flowing freely through it. 

Madam Durrey asked her to perform various basic spells such as Wingardium Leviosa, where Hermione got a little carried away and levitated Madam Durrey's clipboard, quill and the professor's hat. Giggling slightly when Madam Durrey frowned, Hermione returned the objects. With that Madam Durrey concluded her questionnaire, and recommended that Hermione get some more rest. 

Dumbledore remained after the nurse had left, and sat on the end of the bed. "Perhaps you could show me a little more of your magic? You seem quite confident." 

Hermione nodded eagerly, but before they could continue, a young mousey looking boy with bright red hair appeared from around the corner. "Excuse me, Sir," he said in a small voice befitting his looks. 

"Yes, young man?" 

"The Headmaster is asking to see you, Sir." 

The professor sighed and scowled which Hermione found quite amusing. "Then, of course, I'll be on my way. Thank you for the message." 

The boy didn't move at first but looked at Hermione curiously, smiling widely, before running off. 

"I apologise, Miss Granger, it seems I am needed elsewhere. Perhaps we could continue later? At the very least, I could send you something to pass your time. Is there anything in particular you would like?" 

Hermione thought for a moment. "Could I have some books, Sir?" It was just after Hermione had finished her lunch that the professor returned. "Back so soon, Professor?" Hermione said brightly, glad of the company. 

"I'm afraid I can't stay long, my dear, I have a class to teach. My meeting this morning with the Headmaster was in fact about you. Would I be right in assuming you would like to stay? If you are eighteen you would be in our final year. I'm sure you could keep up and the qualification would enable you to earn a little until you marry." 

Hermione bristled at the idea that her goal in life were to marry, but refrained from commenting on it. "I should like to stay, Professor, though I'm having trouble recollecting spells even when performing them. Would it be possible to remain here for two years?" 

"I shall discuss it with the Headmaster when I next have the chance, though even if you were to stay for a single year, the Headmaster has suggested you have a tutor to help you catch up to the level of your fellow students." 

"I'd appreciate it, Sir." 

"He suggested Mr Riddle, if you remember him from the time you first woke up. He is one of the brightest students Hogwarts has ever seen. His prefect duties can be covered by another student should he spend that time tutoring you." Hermione saw something cross the expression on Dumbledore's face but couldn't decipher it before it was covered by a gentle smile. 

"I-, I don't think we got off on a good footing," She stuttered slightly, remembering the scare he'd given her. 

"Oh, I am sorry, I didn't realise it would be such a problem, perhaps I can suggest someone else?" 

"No, no," she said hurriedly, "I'm sure we can start over. It'll be challenging enough to catch up on all I'm unfamiliar with, Sir." 

"Very well, I'll notify him of his extra duties. However, on another note, I have sought out some books for you as you requested." He brought out a stack of miniature books from his inside pocket, which he then returned to their original size. Hermione's eyes lit up. 

"Oh, thank you, Sir. These are perfect," she exclaimed, scanning the titles: Hogwarts: A History, Advanced Spells, Complete History of Magic, Higher level Defence Spells, and lastly, Tales of Beedle the Bard. "Oh, Sir, I think this one may have fallen into the pile by mistake,'' she said, picking up the final book with a childish cover. 

"On the contrary, I believe you may find it quite useful," he said, peering over his half-moon spectacles. "Now I am afraid I must go to teach the bright young minds who are waiting for me." He smiled before leaving Hermione, who avidly began reading the first book she reached for, Hogwarts: A History. 

Several times throughout the day Madam Durrey threatened to take the books from Hermione. 

"You're supposed to be resting and recovering, young lady!" she'd scolded her, before going to deal with another injured student that walked in with perfect timing for Hermione to continue to study and practice all the spells which were coming back to her with ease. 

Even as Madam Durrey prepared to leave in the evening Hermione was still reading. 

"I'm turning off the lights, young lady, and you'd better not read anymore because it'll strain your eyes." At this, Hermione reluctantly placed the book on her side table and pretended to lie down to sleep. The performance didn't last long as she soon had a ball of light hovering above her head as she read through chapter 37 in her book of defence spells, practicing each one as she read about it. 

Turning the page, she came to the Patronus Charm. She read through the directions and saw that the most powerful happy memory the caster possessed was needed to form the full Patronus protection. Hermione glowered at the page. She could remember nothing clearly before this place. The only thing that had made her happy all her life she could recollect was the feeling of being united with her magic; having that power, and skill, and potential of being recognised in her own right. 

The feeling filled her up and she tried the spell in desperate hope that this would be enough. As the spell came to her feelings of joy, friendship, and love, all unconnected to any images, power flowed through her and a shimmering silver otter sprang from the tip of her wand. The otter moved as if the air were water, twisting and turning at the foot of her bed. 

"That was bloody brilliant! Was that a corporeal Patronus?" The otter had vanished the moment her concentration had broken and now she looked at a skinny red-haired boy stood at the foot of her bed as if he had been there all along. 

"Who are you?" she asked, wand pointed directly at him. 

"Hey, easy! I surrender. Just here to plunder some pain relief," He said with his hands up in the air. Hermione kept her wand steady as he ventured forwards. He had a cocky smile across his freckled face and Hermione felt as if she should trust him but couldn't pinpoint why. 

"Joseph Weasley, at your service," He said with a mock bow. "And may I ask who I have the pleasure of meeting?" 

"Hermione," She said, lowering her wand. "Hermione Granger." 

He grinned again. "It seems I've got to go, Hermione. I've just been told someone is headed our way. You might want to put your light out," he said, nodding towards the ball of light hovering above them. Then, before Hermione's eyes, he vanished, as if a curtain had been pulled across him. Hermione hesitated a moment, wondering where he was before ending the light spell, lying back onto her pillow and feigning sleep once again. 

Without her light the room fell into pitch blackness, but closing her eyes she could focus on the shuffle of footsteps making their way towards her in the corridor. So Weasley was right, she thought. 

When the sound finally faded away and disappeared, the silence was interrupted by whispering coming from next to the potion's cabinet by the Hospital doors. 

"What do you mean you can't get in?" Said a voice that sounded suspiciously like Weasley's. 

"Alohomora isn't working! Durrey's done something to it." said another boy's voice. 

While the voices squabbled, she thought back on what she'd seen Madam Durrey do each time she went to collect a remedy. 

Hermione shifted to get out of bed. Her legs were initially a little stiff and unsteady from lying down for so long, but carefully, slowly and quietly, she felt her way to the foot of her bed. Casting a dim light ahead of her, the voices fell quiet, as if they too were only made of darkness. 

"Now let's see what we have here," She repeated just as Madam Durrey had. Hermione had thought it an irritating phrase to say so often, but suddenly it made sense and the doors of the cabinet opened with ease. Hermione scanned the bottles for pain relief and upon finding it, picked it out and turned to the darkness. 

"Weasley. You there?" She felt stupid talking to nothing, scanning the room for any movement which might give him away. 

All of a sudden there were warm hands covering her eyes. "For someone so clever and sneaky, please tell me you're not in Slytherin." 

"Remove your hands before I throw you across the room," She threatened, pointing her wand backwards into his side which made him jump away with a yelp. She turned to face him and smirked. "And what if I was?" 

"What?" 

"In Slytherin." 

"Then I'd tell you to hand over the potion. You're outnumbered," Said another voice from behind her. She didn't turn, just carried on looking at Weasley. 

"Would I have unlocked the cupboard, found the potion and then called you out from hiding if I wasn't going to give it to you?" She asked dryly. 

"A sneaky Slytherin would want something in exchange," Weasley said, smirking playfully back at her. She could tell he already trusted her, it was a nice feeling. 

"Then it's a good thing for you I haven't been sorted," She said as she threw the bottle to Weasley. A moment of panic crossed his face but he caught it easily nevertheless. "I don't even know if the Headmaster is letting me stay." 

Hermione made to walk past him and back to her bed when he stepped in front of her and bent down to whisper in her ear. 

"I hope you do stay." He gave her a light kiss on the cheek but before she could say another word, he and the other boy were gone. Hermione stood frozen until the echo of running footsteps disappeared down the corridors.

 


	5. Chapter 5

"So you can't remember anything, huh?" Riddle said as he sauntered towards her bed. "I think you're lying," he said, as nonchalantly as if he were discussing the weather instead of making an accusation.

"I can remember that I shouldn't trust you," She said defiantly, though the boy set her on edge.

"Well that's understandable. You don't know me," He said, picking at his nails as he leaned against the end of the bedstead. "Perhaps I should introduce myself properly: Tom Riddle, Slytherin Prefect." He held his hand out in greeting but Hermione didn't move. He grabbed for her wrist and drew up the sleeve, letting his fingers trail over her skin where the faint lines of healed cuts were still visible. She struggled to twist herself free from his grip.

"You should thank me, you know. Not everyone would heal a mudblood." He looked up to her face to find her pointing her wand straight between his eyes; he didn't even flinch.

"Back off, Riddle," She said in her steadiest voice. Riddle smirked as if it was all a joke she wasn't privy to.

"It’s surprising how much the mind can remember when it feels threatened. The fight or flight instinct is highly misunderstood," he said, releasing her arm. "I was reluctant when Dippet and Dumbledore initially asked me, but I think I will tutor you. Might be fun. But I won't work with you in this disgusting germ hole, Merlin knows what I might catch. I'll see you around, Hermione."

Hermione glared at the curtain he had brushed past as he left. She half regretted agreeing with Dumbledore to be tutored by him, but she also felt a determination not to let it get to her. Dumbledore might have thought he was smart enough to teach her what she'd missed, but the boy definitely loved the sound of his own voice.

"Blimey, if looks could kill."

Hermione whirled on the spot to face someone standing just behind her shoulder.

"Joseph!" She exclaimed, only to be quickly shushed by him.

"Hey, keep it down. Durrey will have my head if she catches me in here. You can call me Joe, by the way," he said with a smile.

"Alright, Joe, how did you get in here without anyone seeing you?" 

"Magic," he said with a grin and a wink. She rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't have guessed," she said dryly.

"Hey, I've come to brighten your day! Clearly Riddle wasn't going to, slimy git. What does he mean 'tutor' you? I thought you weren't staying?"

"The headmaster wants me to catch up with the course before I'm accepted as a student, and Dumbledore thinks it will help me remember where I'm from," She said, drawing her knees and covers up the her chest so he had room to sit down on the bed.

"Ooh, so you can stay if you can put up with Riddle? Harsh deal."

"It's only for a few weeks while I try and recover."

"So why can't you remember?"

"If I knew that…"

"Oh, right, sorry," He said apologetically.

"Why did you come back?" She asked him and a shy smile crept across Joe's face.

"You helped my friend and I. I had to say thank you." His face brightened and a glint in his eyes showed when he looked at her.

"I thought you already had," Hermione said, averting her face to hide the blush as she remembered the kiss he'd given her.

He cupped his hand around the one she had absent-mindedly brought up to her cheek.

"That was nothing darling, I could do better." He was sitting perfectly still; waiting for Hermione to look straight back at him, with all his bright red hair and freckles. He was skinny and lanky, a stupid grin appeared on his face and that mischievous glint in his eye promised her a good time when he looked at her. She felt safe as he leant in and very much improved on last time.

Tom walked out of Madam Durrey's office and glanced over at the new girl's bed, only to see she was making herself quite at home. Tom caught a glimpse Weasley before he was out of the door so he didn't have to witness any more of their germ-spreading. Wait, wasn't that Weasley rumoured to be gay? Tom had never heard of him having a girlfriend; clearly the sick, broken and naive were more his type.

 

Tom made his way down the corridors to the Slytherin common room to pick up his books when he was approached by a couple of his followers.

"Master?" They chorused in small voices and Tom wanted nothing more than to throw them at the wall.

"You know not to call me that in public!" he snarled at them, but looking around he saw only members of his group.

"We're sorry, Riddle," They whimpered as they shrank back.

"What do you want?" He asked, wishing they'd get on with it so he could get out of their annoying presence. 

"It’s… just..." One of them stuttered, "That kid, Zabini, he…"

"He what?" Tom asked, disinterested. Slytherins weren't likely to report his follower's behaviours; it was these two who would be punished more than Zabini.

"He caught us practising, and he says he knows that we use the come-and-go room." The younger boy squeaked. It was pitiful that his house had accepted such weak fools. However, Zabini was strong, Italian and Tom had often seen him performing high level spells he must have obviously learnt abroad. Tom had been considering recruiting him for quite some time. Upon looking down at the boys he saw they were still cowering, but had finished whining.

"Do not trouble yourselves, gentlemen. I shall deal with this inconvenience," He reassured them before making a hasty exit to his dorm. Tom pondered over Zabini. He was clearly accomplished, and most Slytherin welcomed good leadership. Tom resolved that Zabini would be no different; he would talk to the boy in a few days, once he knew he was not likely to turn into a coward and get the staff involved.


	6. Chapter 6

"Miss Granger, if you could just follow me, please," Dumbledore said as he led her through a maze of corridors. All the magical portraits seemed to be crowded with figures following them at a discrete distance. "Ignore the pictures; they do tend to become nosey when they're bored." Dumbledore waved some of the characters away, and a disapproving glance sent a particularly stubborn wizard from his frame.

"Mr Riddle has accepted teaching you while you settle in, and, depending on your progress, I personally would like to have you formally sorted into a house by the end of next week."

"Which house is Riddle in, Sir?" she asked, watching as Dumbledore's brow furrowed for a moment.

"Slytherin, my dear." He glanced over at her. "That won't be a problem, will it? I'd hate to think you would judge the boy solely based on his house's reputation." Hermione couldn't tell from his expression whether or not he believed the statement himself. She looked away from him when his expression became neutral once more as he opened the door to a small, empty classroom.

As she walked inside, she saw that the pictures in this room were full of magical beasts and creatures. There were several desks pushed to the sides of the room and a large space in the centre of the room revealed the phases of the moon etched into the floor.

"The headmaster suggested that Madam Durrey may not wish you to continue to be taking up a bed in the hospital wing, so I suggested you to be moved to my old classroom. This is the older part of the building and no classes are held here so you shouldn't be disturbed. Mr Riddle shall teach you in here and at the back, you see," he said pointing to a doorway hidden towards the back of the room, "is a dorm room which contains a desk, bed, essential facilities and so on. I can show you if you'd like?" She nodded yes and followed him through.

The room was painted neutrally apart from a red and gold border along the centre of the wall. 

"Aren't this the Gryffindor colours, Sir?"

"Yes. Even as a teacher I was extremely proud of my house. I could have it changed to a more neutral selection if you wish?"

"No, no," Hermione said quickly, smiling. "It makes it seem warmer, homely."

"Very well." He returned her smile before taking out his wand. "If you are content to stay in this accommodation for a while, I shall bring your things over immediately." Flicking his wand, her books and the small bag she had with her, even though Madam Durrey had confiscated it when she saw the state of it, saying it was 'not appropriate for a hospital', arrived on the bedside table.

The thing that caught her eyes most however was the large trunk that appeared at the foot of her bed.

"Sir, what is…?"

"I took the liberty to arrange you some fresh clothing as well as school robes and attire. I was assured everything would be in your size and the casual clothes in the height of fashion," he said, opening the lid as she walked towards it.

"Sir, I really can't accept all that. I have nothing to repay you with," she said kneeling down to look more carefully into the trunk.

"As a school it is our responsibility to ensure the safety and well-being of our students, even prospective students."

"This," she said, gesturing to the piles of clothes, "is more than safety and well-being, Sir."

"Then, perhaps, just because I wanted to," he said slowly. A steady but soft gaze froze her in place. "You seem very wise, Miss Granger; wary, observant, though perhaps a little lost. I have a lot of hope for your success."

"Success in what, Sir?"

"We shall see," he said, before turning and making for the door. "Perhaps you would join everyone in the Great Hall for dinner? I could find someone to escort you down."

"Mystery girl just walks into the Great Hall and sits down for dinner." Hermione almost rolled her eyes.

"Elusive, maybe. But not a mystery. There have been rumours circulating since your arrival. You need only select the ones that suit the image you wish to create."

"And what image is that?"

"I'm afraid I cannot answer that." And with that a silence fell over the room until Dumbledore spoke again. "Mr Riddle may come to tutor you but I shall send someone else for you at a quarter to six this evening. I do hope you settle in well, Miss Granger."

For the next hour or so Hermione inspected her trunk to find more than just clothes as Dumbledore had informed her. Underneath the clothes were school supplies, parchment, and quills which looked far more expensive than anything she had in her woven bag with which she arrived with. There was also a small medical kit including Dittany and a Bezoar. There were books for her studies which she quickly leafed through, excited for the opportunity to practice while she was unoccupied in this room. She was interrupted by a knock on the door. Standing up to answer, she placed the books on the bedside table with those from the hospital wing.

Opening the door, she didn't initially see anyone there. Her hand automatically flexed for her wand when she turned and found Joe Weasley nonchalantly leaning against the wall, one foot resting, propping him up.

"I knew you'd be pleased to see me," he said, grinning in opposition to her frown. "Dumbledore sent me, said you were coming down for dinner."

"At quarter to six."

"So I'm five minutes early. I thought you might want to head in when there was less of a crowd staring at you."

"Only five minutes? She glanced around to the clock over the fireplace and sighed when she saw he was right. "Sorry, I thought I still had more time to change."

"Yeah you might want to, you'll stand out anyway but do you have any school robes?"

"Yeah, I'll be just a minute. Are you going to stay there?"

"Not if there's a peep-hole."

"Incorrigible," she muttered, rolling her eyes and quickly changed into the robes.

When she returned Weasley was sitting on one of the desks and unsuccessfully, it seemed, attempted a spell.

"You ready to go?" she asked, casting a quick spell to lock the door behind her and walked over to him. He shoved his wand into his inside pocket and stood in front of her.

"You look like you belong here now," he said, cocking his head to one side and giving her the once over. She laughed a little and rolled her eyes once more.

"More like it than you," she parried, but reached up to straighten his tie which had twisted round over his shoulder under his cloak. It seemed like a typical and natural thing for Hermione, but she noticed how his breath caught a little as her fingers brushed over the skin where his top button on his shirt was left undone. "Half-way presentable at least." She smiled and he smirked back at her.

It took them another five minutes to reach the Great Hall and crowds of people were already pouring in. Joe leant into her and whispered in her ear.

"Keep your head down and we should get to my friends without too much trouble." Before she could reply he took her hand and they were both carried along into the Great Hall. Weasley threaded his way to an opening half way down to one of the middle two tables before looking up at her and gesturing for her to sit down first, before slipping in beside her.

"Joe finally snuck you out of isolation then, huh?" a voice said behind her and she swivelled around to come face to face with a boy with an unfortunate boil on the end of his nose.

"Okay, so maybe you were telling the truth. Reverse this if you please," he said over Hermione's head to Joe, pointing at his nose.

"I think it suits you, Algie. Definitely going to impress Flick with that one. I might even teach Augusta the trick."

"Ha ha," he said glaring at Joe who merely laughed.

"Hermione, this is Algie Longbottom. Don't let him get away with anything; none of us know how he got into Gryffindor. His sister Augusta," Joe pointed down the table to a small plump girl, "isn't as bad, but she's got three years to catch up on us so I chuck her a bone every now and then to keep him in check."

"Oh that's right, put her off us all so you can have her all to yourself," Algie said, flicking a pea at him.

"That's fine," Hermione said, "I know he's a troublemaker, and a thief too if I remember our first meeting clearly."

"If you're implying-"

"I don't need to imply anything," She said, setting him with a look that made him look guilty but couldn't find the words to say anything to his defence. He just sat there staring back at her until she smirked and turned to her plate.

"You know, Hermione," Algie started, "that's the first time I've known him speechless. You're in!" he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Just think Gryffindor when they put that hat on your head and you might just have found friends for life." He grinned.

Joe took this opportunity to pinch Algie's hand which made him jump back and bump into the girl sitting on the other side of him who shoved him back. He didn't turn to her, just massaged the red patch now forming on his hand.

"Fine, keep her. And I hope she spells your arse into next week." Joe chuckled and pulled Hermione towards him, an arm around her waist.

"She probably will."

Hermione could see the looks people were giving her all through dinner; Slytherin were the worst. Perhaps they were dubious of Riddle being asked to be her tutor. She spotted Riddle across at the Slytherin table; he was sitting isolated and apparently oblivious to the groups around him. He didn't look over and Hermione didn't let her gaze linger.

Joe and Algie bickered across Hermione for most of the meal until a girl sat herself down opposite her.

"Hey, Hermione right?" Hermione nodded and the girl carried on. "I'm Leoni Lovegood. You're here to fix things, aren't you? But I suppose you will focus on fixing yourself first."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Rumour has it you can't remember anything. Then again there's another rumour going 'round that you're a veela which is why they were keeping you hidden. You're not drinking polyjuice potion, are you? I heard they attract Worm-tailed Snorlax." She seemed genuinely concerned.

"Err, no. I'm not a veela."

"Are you going to be sorted into your house tonight?"

"No, not for a week or so maybe. They want to test my spells first, get me up to speed," Hermione explained.

"Half the school aren't up to speed with their course, I don't see why you wouldn't fit right in," she said, which made Hermione question the idea herself, until she felt Joe lean in to her.

"She's coming into Gryffindor anyway, Lee, Ravenclaw is overrated," Joe told her and she visibly straightened at his interruption to their conversation.

"We all have house pride, Joe," she said sharply before rising and leaving, presumably to go and sit wherever she had been initially.

"She seems nice. What was all that though? House issues?" Hermione asked.

"No," Joe said, looking back at his food.

"He's just in a bad mood, 'cause he thinks Lee is going to make up some rumour about him again," Algie said.

"I am not," Joe grumbled with his shoulders hunched.

"Why would she?" Hermione asked, concerned that the boy she usually saw grinning was caught up in a mood so quickly.

Algie shook his head and continued, "She liked him, he rebuffed her, she spread a rumour round the school that he was gay. A rumour which was enforced by his brother, so that _he_ could get in Lee's pants."

"Are you going to tell her who else affirmed that rumour?" Joe asked bitterly.

"That was a joke and I've apologised! Okay, I may have also told my girlfriend at the time that it might be true; I didn't know she'd go straight to Lee.'' He turned to Hermione. ''But he'd never had a girlfriend, I thought he wasn't interested." Joe grumbled a profanity under his breath.

"It's a long argument, but he knows he's my friend and that I won't leave him alone just cause he finds it hard to forget a few of my mistakes. I've apologised so he should forget it. It's not like he ever wanted to get a girl anyway." Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled at Algie understandingly.

Looking around, she saw that people were starting to leave the Great Hall so she placed a hand on Joe's arm and said, 

"Can you walk me back to my room?"

"Uh, yeah," Joe said jumping up from his seat. He put his hand out to help Hermione up too. "I'll see you later, Algie," he said, nodding to Algie as he passed, Hermione just behind him.

Algie caught Hermione's arm. "Everyone knows that story, but he isn't gay. He's been talking about you since he first saw you, had a thing for you from the start and now judging by the way he treated Leoni he thinks you'll hold that against him. Please, please don't," he said it with such pleading in his eyes.

"I wouldn't, I won't," she said, pulling away to catch back up with Joe.


End file.
